Dear Moon,
This world is cold but we have danced before
in darker times when waltzing thawed the snow,
and now we meet again... like ancient lore.
I loved your many forms, from nymph to crow,
and relished contemplating our gyrations
in darker times... When waltzing thawed the snow,
I drank to melt my heart with aspirations
of waxing solar wind in pinkish moon
and relished contemplating... Our gyrations?
a [ ] and a [ ] -- blue monsoon!
a sacred symbol on our heathen minds
of waxing solar wind in pinkish moon!
through all our trials still this vision binds; --
we've lived and died for epochs to atone...
a sacred symbol on our heathen minds.
Old Soul, our timeless bond has always known
this world is cold -- but we have danced before!
we've lived and died for epochs to atone,
and now we meet again... like ancient lore.
eternally,
your
troubadour
Adding your comment:
From one "old soul" to another, it pleases me immensely to know that you can now waltz and sway with the moon whenever the fancy strikes you, Julien. I'm quite sure she's filled out her dance card with only one name - being yours, of course. She does orbit wisely, after all. 
